Dance In The Dark
by smarty350
Summary: I was suffocating. The air was thick with pity, disgust, outrage. I felt the tears coming, could hear my heart pounding. I knew something had gone terribly wrong, but for the life of me I couldn't understand what had just happened.   Will be R/S.
1. Songs Are Like Tattoos

"Another year." I chirped excitedly, pulling my heavy trunk onto the train.

"Enjoy it, kid." James grumbled from behind me. "One more year until you get to drive yourself mental studying for OWLs."

I laughed. James wasn't exactly the type to knock himself out studying for anything. It seemed unlikely that he'd start now.

The two of us boarded the train in search of Albus, who'd volunteered to save us a compartment. After a few seconds of awkwardly glancing through the windows of each compartment, I finally saw the familiar scruffy black head, right next to a clean cut blond one.

"Scorpius!" I squealed, throwing open the compartment door and practically jumping on him. Al groaned and rolled his eyes, but I didn't care. My best mate had been in Moscow for the past two months! I was allowed to be excited to see him!

Al, Scorp, and I sat down, but James almost immediately ditched us to find some of his other friends. He was, however, kind enough to leave his trunk to take up all our space. Real thoughtful, that one.

"So how was Russia?" Al asked Scorpius.

Scorp rolled his eyes. "Mum complained incessantly about how heavy the food was, and Dad was working half the time. Other than that, though, it was great. Amazing, actually. And I even learned a little bit of the language."

"Really?" I asked. "Say something."

Scorp proceeded to say something completely unintelligible to me and Al. Knowing him as I did, though, I was sure it was absolutely filthy.

"Scorpius Jane Malfoy!" I cried, feigning outrage. "How could you say that in the presence of a lady?"

He looked confused. "You understood that? And also, that's not my middle name."

"No, of course I didn't." I laughed. "But it seemed like a safe bet that whatever it was, it would be offensive."

"You know me too well."

The train lurched, sputtered, and finally took off. The three of us glanced out the window to wave a last goodbye to our parents.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, suddenly remembering something. "I promised Mila I'd go find her once we were on the way." The train had been moving for less than a minute, but I knew I was in for a lecture about how "Well, you certainly took long enough" and "I was sure you'd forgotten me." She was my roommate and closest female friend, but Mila Denkova was not a patient woman.

I didn't make it three steps outside the compartment door before I collided with somebody. I stumbled backward, muttering a mortified apology to whoever was unfortunate enough to end up in my path.

"Careful, Weasley. Wouldn't want you getting hurt before Quidditch starts up." My eyes widened when I saw that the speaker was none other than Drew Abberley, an extremely attractive seventh year Ravenclaw on whom I'd had a massive crush since I was twelve. He also happened to be a rival Beater.

"Yeah, I'd hate to miss my chance to kick your arse. Again." I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.

Drew smiled at me. At ME! I felt the telltale Weasley blush creep up to my cheeks.

"Good luck." He said, patting me on the head. It was an extremely condescending gesture that would have been completely infuriating had I not found Drew so charming and irresistible. "See you around, Rose."

Drew returned to his compartment, and Mila immediately ambushed me.

"Rosie!" She squealed, hugging me. "How was your summer?"

"Good, good. I read this really fascinating book about a newly discovered use for Gillyweed, and-"

Mila cut me off abruptly, as was her habit. "Brilliant, really, that's fascinating. What were you and Drew talking about?"

"Nothing important. Just Quidditch. And then he asked me to marry him." I quipped. Mila rolled her eyes.

"Your jokes do not amuse me, Rose. Anyway, where are you and the boys sitting? I want to say hello before I have to go back." She said, gesturing to the compartment that her parents had forced her to share with her sisters, who were both about to begin their first year.

"We're right in here." I said, pointing to the two feet away from us. I really hadn't gotten far.

Mila, drama queen that she is, threw the door open with a flourish. "Okay, okay, you can stop missing me. I'm here!"

Al laughed. "Good to see you, Mil. How was your summer?" I was glad he no longer stuttered like a bewildered troll in her presence. That was quite embarrassing for all involved.

"Quite lovely. And yours?"

"Well, I spent most of it with Rosie. How good could it have been?"

I smacked him on the back of the head, feigning offense. "Screw you, Al. I'm delightful."

"And abusive."

"Shut up."

Mila cut in, already weary of listening to mine and Al's bickering. "And you, Scorp? How was your visit to my homeland?" She said, taking the opportunity to remind us that she used to live in Russia, and was therefore exotic and interesting.

"Brilliant. I learned to say offensive things in a different language." Scorp answered, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes, and we're all so proud." I said, elbowing him in the ribs.

Mila sighed. "Well, as much as I'd love to stay, and believe me, I would, I'd better go sit with Nina and Vera. I'd leave them on their own, but I really don't fancy the idea of starting every day with a howler from Mum."

She left, and Al relaxed visibly. "So, anyone fancy a game of Wizard Chess?"

"Hold on, Al." Scorp said, in his usual drawl. "I feel I should regale Rosie here with tales of my romantic exploits in a foreign land."

"Oh, no, please don't." I whined. "What if it doesn't live up to my fantasies?" I was kidding, of course, but that didn't change the fact that I truly did not want to hear about how Scorpius snogged some strange Russian girl on holiday. It was weird.

"Okay, Rose, that was too gross to be funny." Al said, digging through his trunk for his Chess set. I settled back into my seat, counting the minutes until we arrived at Hogwarts.


	2. You Know I've Been To Sea Before

"I'm starving. When do we eat?" My brother whined loudly. He was really too much like our dad. Lily elbowed him.

"Shut up, Hugh! I want to hear the Sorting! Plus, you ate half your weight in Cauldron Cakes on the way here, there's no way you could be hungry."

I glanced back at the Sorting Hat, which was carefully deliberating over the fate of "Birchgrove, Archibald."

"Hufflepuff!" The old hat bellowed. A tableful of yellow ties burst into applause, and Al rolled his eyes, a pitying expression on his face.

"Poor kid." He sighed. "He never even had a chance." Al was still bitter from last year, when Rockharrow, the Hufflepuff seeker, snatched the Golden Snitch right out from under him in the first match of the season. Since then, he'd been looking for any opportunity to remind us of Hufflepuff's reputation as the "Misfit House". The bloke could hold a grudge better than anyone I knew.

I looked over Al's shoulder to the Slytherin table, trying to catch Scorpius's eye. He leaned out from behind Marlene Kettletoft and made a truly bizarre face at me. The boy was lucky that no one saw, or they would have wondered about his mental wellbeing. It was our habit, though, to make faces at each other from across the Great Hall, and the constant threat of humiliation wasn't enough to make us give it up.

"Ravenclaw" Cried the Hat as Fleetwood, Eleanor hurried to her seat. I searched the line of unsorted First Years for Violet and David, and gave them a supportive smile. My poor little cousins looked absolutely petrified. I remembered how nervous I was this time three years ago. Of course, neither of their fathers had threatened to disown them.

"So…" Started Jeremy Thomas, one of my fellow Fourth-Year Gryffindors. "I hear Abberley is signing with the Falmouth Falcons at the end of this year. One of their Beaters is retiring. "

"Really? Him?" Asked Daryl McLaggen, perplexed. "I mean, he's pretty good, but… good enough to play professionally?"

"I don't know." Said Jeremy, shaking his head. "His dad's quite influential. It can't hurt to be well-connected."

I glanced over to the Ravenclaw table, where Drew was sitting with a few other Quidditch players. He caught my eye and smiled. I was only slightly mortified. Had he thought I'd been staring?

"Anyway, he's not as good as Freddie or Rosie." Said Lily.

"And Rose is tiny. And a girl!" Al added.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, offended. I wasn't tiny, as I somehow kept having to remind my (very tall) family. Only slightly below average. And I didn't appreciate Al's insinuation that being a girl would somehow prevent me from being good at Quidditch. For Merlin's sake, the boy's own mother had played professionally for years!

"Sorry, Rose." He sighed. "I in no way meant to imply that you are anything less than the greatest beater the world's ever seen." I rolled my eyes. I wasn't actually wonderful at Quidditch, either. I just happened to make up for my lack of coordination and slight fear of heights by being very, very aggressive. Lucky for me, it usually seemed to work.

"Weasley, David." McGonagall called our little cousin's name. The wide-eyed eleven-year-old walked on shaky legs to the front of the Great Hall. The hat was placed on his head, and thought about where to put David for about half a second before calling out.

"Gryffindor!" Our entire table broke into wild applause as little David relaxed visibly. He stumbled over to the table and collapsed into a seat next to Hugo.

"Weasley, Violet." Poor Vi looked even more nervous than David.

"Gryffindor!" She scampered off the stool and sat down next to David.

"Congratulations, you two!" Said Al. "You've made me proud." The First-Years beamed. Finally, Zamora, Tristan was sorted into Slytherin, and the feast began. Hugh and Al immediately began piling their plates with massive quantities of food. It was embarrassing, really, how much the two of them could put away in one sitting. I noticed Scorpius trying to catch my eye from across the Great Hall, and twisted my face into some ridiculous expression. Scorp laughed, and Marlene turned around to see what was so funny. He took advantage of her not looking at him, and made another face at me. So I laughed, and poor Marlene looked so confused. I didn't like her, but I did feel kind of bad. Their conversation was clearly not holding his attention at all.

The feast was over pretty fast. After the sorting, all that was left was for my brother and cousin to put away unnatural amounts of food. Then, of course, the prefects escorted the new First-Years to the dormitories. Most of the non-First-Years went up to the dormitories as well, and soon there were only a few stragglers still in the Great Hall. And one of them just so happened to be Drew.

I gathered up all my Gryffindor courage and approached him.

"So," I said, trying to sound as confident as possible. "I hear you're playing for Falmouth next year?"

"You heard right." He smiled at me. Well, it was more of a smirk. Whatever it was, it made me want to… swoon, or whatever it is that girls are supposed to do when boys are being attractive in the general vicinity. "So, keep that in mind, Weasley. You lot will be up against a future professional."

"Okay, just try to go easy on us. We are only amateurs, after all." I rolled my eyes.

"You know, I can't make any promises… I will, however, try not to knock you off your broom, okay?" He put his hand on my shoulder, presumably in an effort to seem sincere.

I smiled. "I guess I can live with that."

McGonagall's voice rang throughout the Great Hall. "All students to their dormitories! Curfew in ten minutes!"

"I guess we'd better go, then." I started off in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

"Hold on." Drew said, grabbing my arm. "I'll walk you up." We walked to the common room, and, for the first time, talked about something other than Quidditch! I mean, it wasn't exactly a deep, meaningful conversation. Just classes, OWLS and NEWTS, how some kid was almost eaten by a Hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures last year. Small talk. But it was a start! And by the time we arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait, I was feeling pretty optimistic about the rest of the year.

Well, we're all allowed to be wrong sometimes.

**A/N: Story Alerts are so nice! But reviews are nicer.**


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